The best, the strangest, and the most daring of the comedy festival so far

This year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival is in full swing. Keep an eye on our ever-growing list of reviews here.

Broden Kelly | Yabusele
Beer Deluxe, until April 20

Broden Kelly is officially a cult-figure. In this wildly unhinged but completely focused hour, he starts by presenting us with three different Facebook groups where fans post pictures that may or may not look like the Aunty Donna star.

Yabusele is at Beer Deluxe until April 17.

This show, Yabusele, is a living, breathing, multimedia memoir of who the hell Broden Kelly is and some pivotal moments on his life’s journey to performing his debut solo show at (checks notes) a reception room above a pub. Imagine that last line with some very creative c-bombs sprinkled in to devastating effect.

Kelly deftly holds our attention through the use of a four-part structure, he knows when to hit us with an obnoxious Potbelleez banger and presents some jokes as facts: “I found out during the research for this show that this is the worst song ever made.”

Tonight, he receives “the best heckle ever” when someone shouts out, “Myers”, at just the right time. Kelly’s gentle eyes beam at the bravery. Brilliant.
★★★★★
Reviewed by Mikey Cahill

Firdi Billimoria | Allow Me To Interrupt Your Doomscroll
Theory Bar – Screening Room, until April 6

If there’s such a thing as a “good troll”, Firdi Billimoria is one of them. His newest show, Allow Me to Interrupt Your Doomscroll, runs the gamut of topics: dog-sitting, high school reunions, dating, going to the library. While this may all sound run-of-the-mill, Billimoria injects each scenario with a layer of unpredictability.

Allow Me To Interrupt Your Doomscroll is at Theory Bar until April 6.

Indeed, how and where does one milk a scorpion? Isn’t it cool being a storyteller of bedtime stories on YouTube? These are only the mildest of bits, and his closing “multimedia” skit – which he makes a point to say is “political” (it’s so oblique, it’s actually amazing) – is one of utmost joy.

We are presented with image after image of what can be said is a combination of what’s already available within popular culture and Billimoria’s deranged imagination. His acting chops come into play here: uncertainty, boredom and surprise flash through his face as quickly as he performs his bits. An emerging comic to watch.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cher Tan

Hayley Edwards | Shitbag
Malthouse Theatre, until April 6

The title should set expectations of the raw material, but if not the extensive subject warnings at the start of this show will elucidate. Shitbag is about literal shit, metaphoric shit, graphic shit. But not gratuitous shit.

Shitbag is at The Malthouse until April 6.

In this comedic one-person performance about being diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, Hayley Edwards deftly balances the dark and light of becoming the youngest and hottest patient on the gastroenterology ward.

There is rich material in how it feels to self-advocate, fight for a diagnosis and face the unknown of a chronic illness. Edwards explores how we feel about physical illnesses versus those of the mind, and how we cope when facing a lack of control over our bodies and lives.

But are we saturated with solo confessional theatre? Or, as Edwards themselves puts it, are too many people trying to rewrite Fleabag? Shitbag demonstrates the strength of the form, showing the merit of making the invisible, visible.
★★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Bronwyn Kuss | I’ll Allow It
The Westin, until April 20

The Queensland town of Peak Crossing is so tiny its postcode probably struggles to hit four digits. The one-shop truck-stop has somehow spawned one of Australia’s sharpest wits, however, whose effortless delivery belies serious comic craft.

I’ll Allow It is at The Westin until April 20. Credit: Nicole Reed

Bronwyn Kuss has the air of a born raconteur, the kind you overhear at a party and wind up eavesdropping on for the next hour. She might be describing a horrific bus trip across the United States or the day her temp job ended with death, but it all feels like an off-the-cuff anecdote you’re lucky enough to be let in on.

Her bone-dry manner and impish desire to tease her crowd’s expectations bring to mind a Tig Notaro or Sara Pascoe, but where most comics spend a good five minutes warming up the laughs, Kuss has her crowd guffawing from the get-go. This act is a polished gem that only gets brighter each year.
★★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Scout Boxall | God’s Favourite
The Tower, Malthouse, until April 20

Scout Boxall gets a few things out of the way early on: they are non-binary, they are bipolar, and they are wearing an odd, dark, floor-length garment that you’d probably describe as a cassock, though that is not a word they use. But as their well-woven tale unfolds, the robe’s true meaning becomes impossible to miss (and, yeah, the title of the show is a bit of a clue, too).

God’s Favourite is at The Malthouse until April 20.

Boxall tells a single story about a weekend away at a LARP (live action role-playing) wedding in the country, horribly marred by the fact they forgot to take their medication along. With meticulously crafted sound design – Boxall is often in perfectly timed conversation with recorded voices – the dark-night-of-the-soul narrative weaves its way from 12th century Saint Hildegard of Bingen and 15th century revolutionary Joan of Arc to 21st century would-be high achiever Boxall with exceptional wit, poignancy and craft.
★★★★
Reviewed by Karl Quinn

Sez | Keeps me Young
The Victoria Hotel, until April 20

If you only see one dyslexic, bisexual musical comedian this festival, make it Sez. The Brunswick-based comic and scathing toilet critic (just ask her 200K+ Instagram followers) is armed with a guitar, a stack of personal and wonderfully cringey anecdotes, and a willingness to plunder her life for laughs.

Keeps Me Young is at The Victoria Hotel until April 20.

“I’m forcefully outing a lot of people tonight,” she says, her eyes flicking between deer in the headlights to wicked provocateur.

With this show taking place in the early evening, Sez reads the room well by acknowledging that stories about fingering, bird crap on windows, and Jeremy from the footy club may come across as a bit much. Sez gives the caveat she feels like she’s “hard launching” heavy and heady concepts at the relatively safe time of 5pm, “I’m usually doing comedy to drunk people at 10 o’clock!”

There are a few pacing issues (this would be a great 50-minute show) but she will iron those out during her run. The diminutive diva sings a damning ditty about a former lover called Fred, and she times her callbacks like a pro, snort-laughing along with the crowd at what she’s getting away with.
★★★★
Reviewed by Mikey Cahill

Hannah Camilleri | What I’m Going For
The Malthouse - The Tower, until April 6

Only Hannah Camilleri could have an audience eating out of the palm of her hands just by miming two fingers falling in love. It’s Camilleri 101: masterfully subtle clowning energised by a tongue-in-cheek playfulness.

What I’m Going For is at The Malthouse until April 6.

In this follow-up to her 2023 smash hit, Lolly Bag, she’s reflecting on this near-trademark style. We start in the lobby after a Camilleri-esq show. “Did she need to do so much audience interaction?” she asks one of us casually. Yes. Imagine an improv class without any of the cringe or horror – that’s the sweet spot Camilleri keeps us in with 50 minutes of restrained ad-libs and collaborative sketches.

Long-time fans might find parts of the show lazy. Though Camilleri wheels out a laundry list of her classic caricatures – from high-strung year 8 teacher Mrs Duncan, to the moustachioed mechanic Frank – she’s certainly used them in more creative ways in the past.

But even when she’s resting on her laurels, Camilleri is thrilling to watch, and her creative approach to the show’s meta-reflections ensures that it never grows stale. You know you’ve been watching a genius at work when you find yourself suddenly heartbroken that two cuticles can’t make it work.
Reviewed by Guy Webster

Sammy J | The Kangaroo Effect
Athenaeum Theatre, until April 6

Another comedy festival, another immaculate performance by Sammy J delivered through song, stand-up, storytelling and multimedia.

The Kangaroo Effect is at the Athenaeum Theatre until April 6.

In The Kangaroo Effect, he essentially brings the Charlie Day meme from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to life – clawing through an archive of VHS tapes and blurry polaroids to set out a series of suspects that are to blame for him turning up to a house party in a kangaroo onesie. Everyone else was dressed in smart-casual. He humiliated himself. Apparently, a potato might be to blame?

It’s akin to watching a true-crime documentary on Netflix – except the only victim in this story is the ego of the protagonist.

He shares footage of his own birthday-party-turned-live art performance-turned-disaster, and an ill-fated appearance on the Red Faces segment of Hey Hey It’s Saturday (only to remind us that he took the ABC Melbourne morning radio gig from the man who gonged him, Red Symons).

There are an abundance of circles that come full: most notably the musical career of his brother and the plight of his best friend/nemesis. Plus, some not-so subtle jabs at this masthead for publishing his own letters to the editor criticising his radio show under a ... ahhh, pseudonym (read: his real name, Sam McMillan).

Sammy J is the consummate professional performer – 15 years ago, he won the award for Most Outstanding Show with his purple puppet partner-in-crime, Randy. Ever since, there’s still yet to be an ebb in quality. It’s becoming near-impossible to expect anything less.
★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Luke McGregor | Okay, Wow
Comedy Theatre, until April 6

Okay, Wow is at the Comedy Theatre until April 6.Credit: Dru Maher-Brooks

Luke McGregor stepped away from stand-up for eight years, but not from the spotlight. He’s been writing, he’s been starring on TV, and he’s even raced around the world with his mum on The Amazing Race Australia. But, as his new show proves, his skills on the stage haven’t gotten rusty.

The 55-minute show is a well-paced journey through seemingly random thoughts with just the right amount of audience chit-chat. A hilarious ad-lib moment arises when McGregor realises there’s a 14-year-old in the front row – possibly “forced to come along by parents”. The blurb on the website recommends ages 15+.

Flat Earthers, an ADHD diagnosis, step-kids, the shape of his appendage, and finding the love of his life are all stand-up fodder for McGregor, who captivates with his pithy observations and blunt analysis.
★★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

Lil Wenker | Bangtail
The Motley Bauhaus – The Cellar, until April 6

If Lil Wenker’s name – astonishingly her real one – isn’t enough to initially elicit a snort from you, her side-splittingly funny rendition of a cowboy-turned-accountant in crisis certainly will.

Bangtail is at The Motley Bauhaul until April 6.

As soon as Bangtail aka Alan aka “the baddest man in Texas” struts onto the stage – clad in leather chaps, face adorned with thickly drawn eyebrows and moustache, arms akimbo – the audience is in stitches. His gravelly voice as he rasps “listen up” to selected audience members who are set to become part of the routine only deepens the giggles.

Audience participation is integral to Wenker’s show, but similar to comedians like Garry Starr where no row is immune from the ensuing hijinks, it’s a safe, convivial space. You could find yourself a heifer, a cactus, the saloon doors, the all-important Nemesis.

Paradoxically lecherous yet always seeking consent, Wenker assumes a cloak of exaggerated masculinity with such gusto and mirth it’s rendered into something abject and farcical.

Fresh off sold-out runs at Edinburgh Fringe and Adelaide Fringe, this one-woman clown western expertly blends physical comedy, inane silliness and a tightly constructed narrative to deliver incredulity and laughter at every turn.
★★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Sara Pascoe | I Am A Strange Gloop

Melbourne Town Hall & Max Watts, until April 12

The spouses of most comics don’t want their flaws to be aired on stage. Sara Pascoe’s husband (fellow touring comic and former Sydneysider Steen Raskopoulos) doesn’t mind as long as she makes sure to tell the crowd that he’s great in bed.

I Am A Strange Gloop is at Max Watt’s and Melbourne Town Hall until April 12.

A lot has changed in Pascoe’s life since I last saw her in Melbourne eviscerating Tom Ballard on The Great Debate stage. She’s gotten married and had two kids – she’s a family woman now and she wants to talk about it.

In most cases: yawn. The audience really doesn’t care about the tedium of your domestic life with the nocturnal bubs and a man who feigns ignorance to escape chores – we’ve heard that one a thousand times.

But not in Pascoe’s adroit hands. She weaves mirth out of monotony – be it the allure of polygamy simply to divide housework or the juxtaposition of sexual inclinations of both men and women once they hit their 40s.

It’s not all family gear, however. There are scathing observations about capitalism and the plight of the environment – all landing aplomb, if not depressing in their accuracy.

Pascoe may be a strange amorphous gloop of a human – but she’s one well worthy of your ticket money, the extra shows just added attest to that.
★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Queerly Beloved
Melbourne Town Hall, until April 19

Queerly Beloved, we are gathered here today to enjoy a 100 per cent queer comedy night. In fact, to the delight of the performers, it’s also a 100 per cent queer audience as identified in a poll taken by charismatic host Maddy Weeks at the outset. In this explicitly queer space, there’s a shorthand, a knowing wink, a sense of freedom. No need for explainers, these performers just let loose. Praise be.

Queerly Beloved is at Melbourne Town Hall until April 19.

With a rotating line-up each night, Queerly Beloved serves seven tight sets from gender diverse and queer comics. While all fall under the LGBTIQA+ umbrella, there are a variety of comedy offerings and with such short sets nobody outstays their welcome. From Courtney Maldo’s puns to Scout Boxall’s exploration of the sex life of nerds, the material and styles are wide-ranging. It’s a loose, late-night way to get a feel for some of the queer comedy offerings available across the festival.
★★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Lehmo | I Have to Tell You About a Thing I Did
Beer Deluxe, Federation Square, until March 31

If you had to pick one word to sum up Anthony Lehmann’s persona, it would be “relatable”. He’s a regular guy, having regular experiences, and parlaying them into funny stories. Hell, even the venue – a beer hall, temporarily doubling as a comedy room, the footy on the telly downstairs – is relatable.

I Have To Tell You About A Thing I Did is at Beer Deluxe until March 31.

Walking the Kokoda Trail (Lehmo has been a frequent performer for Aussie troops overseas), running the Melbourne Marathon (“half”, he quietly concedes), the joys of parenting, especially the opportunities it presents to drift into childhood nostalgia: this is the stuff of Lehmo’s comedy, honed by years of breakfast radio, where relatability is all. But it’s marriage that gives him his best material, and I’d swear if it weren’t for the fact his wife is there in the crowd, lapping it up, and enjoying a drink with him afterwards, you’d swear they were on the rocks. They’re not. He’s just an expert at mining the rich seam of tension in every relationship for comedic gold.
★★★★
Reviewed by Karl Quinn

Steve Porters | How to Flirt: The Ted XXX Talk
Lunch room, Melbourne Town Hall, until April 6

A handful of years ago, Steve Porters – a character created by drag king Daisy Doris May – was “born”. The show presents as a hybrid of stand-up and physical theatre, as Steve deftly relays tips and tricks for successful modern dating.

How To Flirt: The TED XXX Talk is at the Melbourne Town Hall until April 6.

Wearing the chunkiest of gold chains, socks paired with Nike slides, and a backwards cap, Steve delivers a pseudo Ted talk with flirty fervour that emboldens a wildly vocal and enthusiastic audience to joyfully follow directions. There’s plenty of whooping, finger-clicking, cheering and dancing.

The seminar is littered with purposefully cringey pick-up lines. A few individuals are enticed onto the stage to partake in dating shenanigans. After the show wraps, Steve hangs around for selfies and a wave of high-energy exchanges. It’s a fun, frivolous and occasionally puerile hour-or-so of silliness.
★★★★
Reviewed by Donna Demaio

Dan Rath | Tropical Depression

Swiss Club, until April 20

I would absolutely loathe to live in Dan Rath’s head. But I adore observing it from the back row.

Tropical Depression is at the Swiss Club until April 20.

He’s the first to admit that he’s a neurotic mess of a human being – but therein is his charm. He combines the LSD-like absurdity of Paul Foot with the self-deprecating anxiety of Maria Bamford and then pummels you for 50 minutes, speaking at break-neck speed.

He doesn’t so much zig-zag across different trains of thought as he does step on landmines that blow him catastrophically into another non-related punchline.

The correlation of IQ levels and complication of water bottles? Sure. Followed by escaping into North Korea so you don’t have to worry about the paralysation of having choice over the type of milk you buy? Why not. Taking Ozempic and smoking dope at the same time to have their effects fight for supremacy within your body? I’m completely lost, but I’m strapped in for this fever dream of a ride.

Audience members are left wheezing at the abundance of ridiculous non-sequiturs as multiple gags ricochet across the room without leaving them any time to catch their breath.

Rath is definitely not a comedian for audiences who enjoy the TV and commercial radio friendly-type acts whose anecdotes are served on a comfortable white-bread platter. For everyone else – book yesterday.
★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Ruby Teys | Cherry Vinyl: Coober Pedy’s Last Showgirl
The Greek - Aphrodite, until April 20

If Showgirls’ Nomi Malone was raised by blind moles in Coober Pedy in 1991, you’d get Cherry Vinyl: the latest larger-than-life character from the totally twisted, and wholly original mind of local legend, Ruby Teys.

Cherry Vinyl: Coober Pedy’s Last Showgirl is at The Greek until April 20.

Fresh off the back of 2024’s cult hit Dog C*nt, Teys brings us another hour of absurdist chaos that tap dances between comedy, cabaret and Drunk History: Australia in six-inch heels. It’s loosely based on the true story of the stealing of $5.4 million from Kerry Packer in 1995. But truth has always been a gentle suggestion for Teys. What she offers instead resembles David Lynch directing Kath and Kim in Cabaret.

There’s a tap number for Ivan Milat, a shrimp-cocktail bustier and an overpowered taser. On opening night, Teys soldiered on despite a stolen costume, with the unpredictable magnetism that has made her a creative force in Australian comedy. You either love or hate her bawdy brand of nostalgia-filled chaos and high kicks. There will come a time when her freewheeling style and lack of focus will frustrate rather than endear. But that’s next year’s problem. Tonight belongs to the moles of Coober Pedy.
★★★★
Reviewed by Guy Webster

Piotr Sikora | Furiozo: Man Looking For Trouble
The Motley Bauhaus – Theaterette, until April 20

There’s a lot of talk surrounding “toxic masculinity” in recent years, but few artists know how to tackle the epidemic head-on without resorting to tropism. Yet physical comedy might just be the perfect form for taking the piss.

Furiozo: Man Looking for Trouble is at The Motley Bauhaus until April 20.

Piotr Sikora, in his latest show, Furiozo: Man Looking For Trouble, tells a story of a meathead as he parties through life, looks for love, settles down and parties again.

Through body gestures, simple props, mimework and oafish nonverbal growls, Polish clown Sikora manages to satirise and project the quintessential capital-M Man who rages through life unable to access his feelings, a social script followed through until the end of time.

Old-hand Sikora handles this caricature somewhat as if we should handle it with care. Regardless, his contemporary interpretation of this social disease is particularly enjoyable because what is masculinity if not a clownish performance? Audience participation is paramount in this one, so come prepared.
★★★★
Reviewed by Cher Tan

Alice Tovey | Glass Houses

Storyville, until April 6

Alice Tovey’s father went to jail, she tells us with a Judith Lucy-esque cadence. He was more a white-collar criminal than a member of The Carlton Crew, but that’s not the point.

Glass Houses is at Storyville until April 6.

Glass Houses is as much a vicious critique of the grossly mishandled prison-industrial complex as it is a reminder of the importance of familial love, empathy and forgiveness – as flawed and dysfunctional as those dearest to us may be.

As she recalls visiting prisons of varying security levels, Tovey dispels myths and offers insights into the humans others prefer to ignore.

She details the communities built by hardened criminals inside unbreakable walls and how her father was subjected to literal torture that broke the United Nations’ Mandela Rules.

There are instances where deploying a red pen would have enhanced the hour. Tales of her father’s bathroom habits when not in the clink, her colonoscopy experiences, and a hypothetical feline-fronted fast-food franchise are unnecessary for cheaper laughs. But they are quickly forgiven as she reaches poignant crescendo after crescendo.

Through stand-up and song, Tovey’s shows have often seesawed from the silly and absurd (Doggo, Not Like The Other Ghouls) to the masterful skewering of societal constructs (Garbage Monster, Mansplaining). When she homes in on the latter – which she does in spades in Glass Houses – she shines.
★★★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

Josh Glanc | Family Man
Chinese Museum, until April 20

Josh Glanc is a hairy tornado. He glides on stage wearing his trademark midriff T-shirt and a cheesy up-to-no-good grin. Glanc is coming in hot after touring the United States and the UK, then both the Perth and Adelaide fringe festivals.

Family Man is a riotous hour of musical comedy, audience interaction and lanyard appreciation. Glanc knows which members of the crowd to pick on – sorry, celebrate – and tonight, he almost gets more than he bargained for with a young buck named Gene. “Where to from here?” he asks at one point, reading the room beautifully.

Family Man is at the Chinese Museum until April 20.

Glanc leans into his venue’s “rich tradition” of comedy and puts his mic to the brick walls for a ripping set-piece. His preacher man and French pervert characters keep the pace of the show lively and allow for a surprising multimedia callback that has everyone in the room glad they spent their hard-earned on this hirsute clown.

Glanc continues to refine his craft and shine in front of every crowd, whether they’re silly billies, cheeky monkeys or a third, risque category that I won’t spoil.
★★★★
Reviewed by Mikey Cahill

Garry Starr | Classic Penguins
Malthouse Theatre, until April 20

He can sing, he can dance, he can perform an entire show without pants.

Garry Starr is back, and he’s going to save literature – by performing the entire canon of Penguin Classics, sort of.

Classic Penguins is at The Malthouse until April 20.

If you’re yet to be acquainted, know that Starr is a ridiculous, ridiculous man.

Also know: the laughs are guaranteed.

His humour is physical, silly and uproarious. The interpretations are mostly literal riffs on titles – Moby Dick, for example, or Around the World in 80 Days.

An enormous amount of effort has gone into props and costumes that deliver single visual gags, including a spectacular bait and switch for The Jungle Book.

Expertly handled audience participation adds to the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants comic tension. You’ll be lucky if you beat the 10 others champing at the bit to get on stage.

It’s an 18+ show, mainly due to the nudity, but check out his G-rated offering, Monkeys Everywhere, if you’d prefer.
★★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Elf Lyons | Horses
The Malthouse, until April 20

Elf Lyons takes the concept of childhood make-believe by the reins and gallops away with it.

The whole show is performed in character as Treacle the horse, who also variously performs as other horses, people, gods and monsters.

Horses is at The Malthouse until April 20.

Interspersed throughout are voice recordings from Lyons’ family, reflecting on their time growing up and making play, whether together or apart.

There’s a slightly sinister thread woven in, too, although much less prominently so than in last year’s Stephen King-inspired Raven.

And there are layers and metaphors aplenty, should you choose to look. Treacle emerging as a foal, all awkward stumbling limbs, is a fine embodiment of a young person’s desire to belong. A tweenaged Pegasus, meanwhile, finds his feet on an outing to a shoe shop with mum Medusa, amusingly portrayed.

Lyons defiantly carves a unique space at the festival. But while one character does end up down the bottom of a well, I found myself struggling to connect on a deeper level.
★★★
Reviewed by Hannah Francis

Laura Davis | Despair is Beneath Us
The Greek, until April 20

Despair is Beneath Us follows two exceptional comedy festival shows from Laura Davis and continues their strengths in blending humour and pathos to tackle weighty topics.

Despair is Beneath Us is at The Greek until April 20.Credit: Chayla Taylor

In opening, Davis asks us to extend our trust so we can rapidly dive into the guts of the show. Unfortunately, the process of building trust with an audience can’t be shortcut, and we are still on tentative ground. Signposts for where this is heading are few and far between as Davis charges through at a cracking pace.

At the close, Davis has built to an astute conclusion. With a critical mass of people in agreement that the status quo is untenable, now is the time to leave despair in the past and focus on what can come next.

This conclusion comes late, so there isn’t adequate time to explore it. The middle act has run too long, and while the threads Davis has been weaving are pulled together, we don’t get to admire the picture that has been woven. Fine-tuning the balance would grant more space for the substance – a call to reject despair.
★★★
Reviewed by Lefa Singleton Norton

Grace Zhang | Saying Grace
Theory Bar – Screening Room, until April 6

Grace Zhang’s show is titled Saying Grace, and while she begins the show by thanking the audience for a fair few things including taking a risk on a comedy show where the title is a pun on the comedian’s name, there’s no mystery to it: it is exactly what it is.

Saying Grace is at Theory Bar until April 6.

Much of this character comedy show is of Zhang “saying grace”, complete with a meal she slowly unpacks in front of her. She thanks everything: from the vegetables in the dish and their farmers to the chef and restaurant which cooked it, its workers, et cetera.

From here, Zhang’s ASMR-esque demeanour smoothly transitions as she moves onto wingmen, boyfriends, smoking weed, unemployment and more. There’s a particular sense of watching a vlog in the flesh, and perhaps that’s the cleverest part of it. But similarly, because of that, it falls victim to explication – the internet can’t always translate into real life, where there’s much more ambiguity.
★★★
Reviewed by Cher Tan

Douglas Lim | Made in Malaysia
Chinese Museum – Jade Room, until April 6

If you know what a Kilometrico pen, congkak and the game of “police and thief” are, this show is for you.

Returning for an encore run, Malaysian-Chinese comic Douglas Lim delivers an assured set that leans into the humour of cultural stereotypes while questioning them, resurrects emblems of Malaysian youth, and takes aim at any number of things – Singapore, his childhood nemesis, Chinese-sounding English names.

Lim has an affable onstage presence with a self-deprecating, gently admonishing manner – clever punchlines gesturing to Malaysia’s endemic corruption and the ramifications of colonisation are delivered so cavalierly, they’re almost missed.

Made in Malaysia is until April 6.

Lim sufficiently deconstructs his show for a non-Malaysian audience, but much of it hinges on a shared comprehension of a highly specific cultural context. It’d be difficult to truly grasp the humour underpinning Lim’s race-based jokes without understanding the fraught model of multiculturalism that pits Malays, Chinese and Indians against one another in the home country – Lim is always careful to punch up or sideways – and which manifests in things like racial quotas, which Lim lampoons.

Some bits – like commentary on the inefficiency of the Western education system – are a touch overdone, but Made in Malaysia is exactly what it purports to be: an hour of stand-up pitched at an audience well-versed in Manglish who can guffaw at a well-crafted joke about corporal punishment.
★★★
Reviewed by Sonia Nair

Takashi Wakasugi | Comedy Samurai
ACMI, until April 20

Takashi Wakasugi’s jokes are sharp like a samurai’s sword, cutting through the cultural clashes that divide Australia and Japan.

His onstage persona has a lively, frenetic energy, with his fast-paced delivery and heavy gesticulation keeping audiences entertained.

Comedy Samurai is at ACMI until April 20.

He asserts that the local lifestyle lacks discipline and simplicity, directing occasional smokers to “be samurai, be consistent”.

The observations are clever, such as an analysis of returning customer strategies for chains ALDI, Officeworks and Chemist Warehouse.

Jokes are also delivered in interesting formats that encourage the audience to think deeper, such as a haiku bit that requires imagination to interpret the punchline.

When jokes don’t land, such as a relational conclusion between sake and wine, Wakasugi gently chides, “use your brain”.

He ends with gutter humour, which feels like an unnecessary addendum to an otherwise focused show.

With a sold-out opening night and growing profile through TV appearances, catch this performer early during his rise to fame.
★★★
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

Holly Bohmer | Don’t Let Me Eat My Babies
The Motley Bauhaus, until April 6

The line between comedy and horror is gossamer-thin. A jump-scare can leave audiences settling back into relieved laughs, while the sharpest humour affords a safe spot from which to check out the abyss. Holly Bohmer’s excellent debut solo show plumbs this territory.

She avoids the surface-level tropes of creepshow-inspired comedy – there’s zero mwoo-haa-haa here – and instead taps a deeper vein of body horror, Lynchian surrealism and cosmic absurdity.

Don’t Let Me Eat My Babies is at The Motley Bauhaus until April 6.

The parade of human-ish horrors she embodies range from a creepy therapist channelling our inner babies to a sex shop entrepreneur whose experiments are as compelling as they are unsettling. Her most straightforward role, a high-schooler taking littlies on a school tour, is perhaps her most disturbing.

There’s seriously inspired weirdness in here, but Bohmer’s chameleonic performance is always underwritten by a winning relatability. She’s not here to offend. She wants us all in on the joke. She’s no monster, but good heavens, she’s created some.
★★★
Reviewed by John Bailey

Nat Harris | I Don’t Want To Make A Scene
Chinese Museum, until April 6

“6.30pm Comedy! First preview!!” Nat Harris says, mocking herself.

Harris has bravely put her hand up for one of the earliest reviews of the Comedy Festival, and she delivers a frequently funny hour with themes of self-reckoning, mostly based on stories of growing up as one of four girls, her dad’s legacy, and admitting she’s a people-pleaser who never wants to make a scene.

I Don’t Want To Make A Scene is at the Chinese Museum until April 6.

Harris starts strongly with her low-key iconic character, Pussy Willow, and stays focused during the freewheeling hour, using smoky jazz background music to great effect.

Her strengths lie in her surreal sketch work, and I’d love to see more of her characters, like one included tonight: an HR officer who is 100 per cent about to conduct a witch-hunt.

Pussy Willow and Jester Cat’s respective origin stories have the audience transfixed, but the last third of the show loses a little steam. This is where further characters could be introduced to bring it home with aplomb.
★★★
Reviewed by Mikey Cahill

Eli Matthewson | Night Terror
The Greek - Apollo, until April 20

Eli Matthewson has had a good year, the bastard. He’s been on Dancing with the Stars and Celebrity Treasure Island. He’s bought a house.

Comedy doesn’t necessarily take kindly to people doing well, he admits 20 minutes into his charming but unfocused Night Terrors. Where’s the tragedy? Where’s the time?

Night Terror is at The Greek until April 20.

Instead, Matthewson offers witty anecdotes from his year of living comfortably. If that sounds a bit limp, it is. Not even Matthewson’s boyish charm and cerebral wit can make this half-hazard collection of semi-related bits and stories of domestic bliss feel cohesive.

In the absence of any overarching idea, Matthewson’s set descends into a tonally confused stream-of-consciousness. We move helter-skelter from boyfriend troubles and Costco benefits to gentle audience riffing; from Marvel Superhero fatigue, to takes on polyamory. Despite a break-neck pace of delivery, 50 minutes pass at a snail’s pace, with each punchline representing something ultimately more tragic: a missed opportunity.
★★
Reviewed by Guy Webster

Sophie Power | CVNT

Malthouse Theatre, until April 12

Martin Scorsese’s 2013 film, The Wolf of Wall Street, is infamous for its generous use of expletives. It’s a mere molehill compared to the mountain of obscenities uttered by both performer and audience members in Sophie Power’s CVNT.

CVNT is at The Malthouse until April 6.

Dressed as a vulva, Power is reminiscent of Julia Masli in her show, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha – pacing the room and engaging crowd members to relinquish their secret vulnerabilities. Except in this instance, they’re invited to unleash on those in their lives that they utterly, utterly hate.

CVNT is a show that could easily be awarded one or five stars on any given evening depending on the audience – it did win best comedy at last year’s Melbourne Fringe Festival after all. Unfortunately, I caught it on an evening where hostile men were encouraged to shout “f--- you, c---!” at their in-laws and exes. It’s jarring and uncomfortable for many in the room – akin to being in an enemy cheer squad at the MCG or witnessing a bar fight.

There are moments of surreal bliss – including a gospel sermon that would surely send all who recited it straight to hell; a dance party where the audience joyously declare their adherence to “the cult of c---”; and a room-wide rally about our shared hatred of landlords. It’s extremely sex-positive, including a pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey-type game where men in the room are tasked to find the clitoris (it took a long time for one to finally get it right).

Conversely, there are also moments where it feels like you’re at a lecture organised by Andrew Tate.

Power is an incredible performer – she’s drenched in sweat, cranberry juice and dislodged fake eyelashes by the end of the hour. With the right crowd, CVNT could be cathartic. That wasn’t tonight.
★★
Reviewed by Tyson Wray

The Age is a Melbourne International Comedy Festival partner.

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